Does a year really make a difference? Apparently so…

On the 2 hour drive to Bloomer, WI, where I was spending the night, I thought about the weather which was being predicted as cold and wet for the race on Saturday morning. I had run this race last year on Holy Saturday, the day before Easter. It was about the same time of the month, maybe a week earlier. It was wet last year but a little warmer. It’s funny how soon we forget the challenges of a race and start to imagine that we can perform so much better.

Bloomer is about 14 miles from the Ice Age Unit Interpreter Center where the race starts and finishes and where packet pickup is. After checking in to the Bloomer Inn, trying to save a buck, they have a $39.99 truck driver special during the week, and on Friday night the room was $63 with tax. I have stayed in worse. I made my way out to the Interpreter Center to pick up my race packet. Randy and crew already had race day preparations well under way. I got my packet and shirt (nice shirt this year), wandered around, took some photos, and walked a small section of the trail to check out the conditions.

The trail was in superb shape. Like most of the upper Midwest, it has been dry, so unless the forecast holds true, the trail should be about perfect. After a dinner of two plain chicken breast and a large bake potato I headed to my room to call it a night.

I did not sleep well, tossed and turned, and dreamt that I woke up late and missed the start of the race (twice). Well waking up late did not happen, I was up at 2, 3, 4, 5, and out of bed at 5:30. I brought the plug-in water boiler thingy and made oatmeal for breakfast. I talked to Charlene. She was up early and had to work 7 – 7. She wished me luck. I was hoping I would not need it but kindly accepted.

It was kind of snowing when I loaded the car and headed out. I arrived at 7:00, an hour before race start. The weather forecast was for light showers early and a high of 46 F. It was 41 F at race start but felt colder with a strong 15 mph wind. I was dressed warm and was hoping not too warm.

The race started with little fanfare, no F-16 fighter planes, no National Anthem, no cannon shot, just a get set and go!

I took off my hat and opened up my jacket within the first 2 miles. I was over dressed. I hoped to make it to the turnaround and lose the jacket and gloves (drop bag). I started with a much slower pace than last year and was hopeful it would play out well on the way back in.

With 3 full tumbles (8.0, 7.6, and 9.0) and 4 major stumbles in the first 25K, I looked like I was playing in the dirt. With about 2 miles to go until the turnaround, the front runners started passing me on their way back from the out and back course. I was running about 15 minutes slower than my pace the previous year but was still hopeful for a strong return trip.

In the last mile and a half before the turnaround there are obstacles; you have to navigate over a barbed wire fence and another gate- like thing. I had a hard time lifting my legs high enough on the way out and could only wait with anticipation to do it again on the way back. There are a dozen bridges on the trail, some only 18 inches or so wide, rocks, roots, boggy areas, a couple of fences, and some major up and down single track trail.

On the way back in I managed only one major fall, but it was a real doozie (10.0). I cramped as soon as I hit the ground, a cramp worthy of legend. The cramp started in the middle of the top of my left foot, went up the inside of my left calf and thigh and ended just shy of the swim suit area. As I lay on the ground, as if looking for earthworms, the runner in front of me turned to see if I was okay. I grimaced and stated that I was okay, just a cramp. I laid there thinking of the 10 or so miles I had left to navigate.

The next couple of miles were on- again off- again cramping. Every hill seemed to aggravate the muscles, but after some time I was able to get back to a more reasonable run/walk approach.

After a few more close- call stumbles, I was getting within the finishing window and knew that I would finish today and had already accepted that it would not be a PR.

The last two miles are cruel, with two miles left you pass within 50 yards of the Interpreter Center and the start/ finish line. It seems like these final miles are all up hill. With just over three miles left I was passed for the final time of the day. The runner that went by provided enough motivation to mount a response. I followed her, catching up on the up hills and falling back on the down. The down hill hurt as bad as the up, my feet were ready for the day to end.

The last 1/4 mile is a very steep (hands on knees steep) climb. There are signs along the trail meant to provide motivation (they did not work). They read, ‘No Walking’, ‘U R Not Walking R U?’ You’re damn straight I’m walking, I’m just glad I’m not crawling…

Lessons Learned:

• Getting old sucks but beats the alternative
• Shuffling equals falling (a lot). If you’re going to run trails you need to learn to pick up your feet or learn to like eating dirt.
• Good weather does not necessarily equal PR
•  50 K is a long way to run
• Celebrating the journey is not always a party 😉